This week feels hard so I’m taking some time to process my grief.

Nothing major happened to me recently, but sometimes it’s the small tremors, those aftershocks that echo long after events pass that build up into something overwhelming. I’m finding the small tremors hard to prepare for. They don’t give us any warning.

Tragically Hip

Gord Downie of the Tragically Hip died yesterday. I’m not a superfan but his songs have punctuated many of my life’s moments. I watched the final concert, and remained impressed with the legacy he chose to leave: fighting for aboriginal rights and fundraising for brain cancer research. But his death triggers a lot of grief, watching a public figure go through the same horrible brain cancer my friend died from. I’ve tried distancing myself from the coverage but it hurts. I miss her so much right now.

E and I in 2009. I miss you.

Then, there’s Sears.

Sears Canada is going bankrupt and liquidating it’s assets. This is more than a little devastating. I grew up with Sears; more than just looking forward to the Wish Book catalogue every Christmas. My dad worked there for 30 years and most of my things and clothes and furniture came from that store. As a teenager I remember being so excited when the company bought Eatons, another Canadian icon. It was poised to be a high end department store, with a name and reputation that meant quality. It’s catalogue (which used to service every small community in Canada with it’s pick up locations) should have become Amazon. But in the early 2000s Sears Roebuck (the US owner) changed directions and took away the visionaries at the helm. I’ve watched the store steadily decline since then, Sears Roebuck pilfering the Canadian store, systematically destroying it to pay off its US shareholders. Sears Canada was always a company with heart, one I worked for in the corporate side for 2 years. And now the people who made up its heart are being kicked out without any help in the future. All this time I knew it was coming, but it hurts just the same.

Custom Gift Card my dad sent me with a picture of me and my mom. I still keep it in my wallet.

I grieve because my dad always fought for his employees. Though I’m glad he’s not here to witness the demise of the company he gave 30 years to, it’s like I’m losing him all over again, not to mention losing the possibility of those same wishbook memories with my son. I can only imagine how the families with employees awaiting their last day feel.

Dad and I, wedding day. Image Courtesy of Boyfriend/Girlfriend Photography http://boyfriendgirlfriendpictures.com.

#metoo

Finally, my heart breaks with the #metoo movement. I count myself lucky that on the sliding scale of sexual abuse, assault and harassment, my experiences have only left me uncomfortable and not worse. But I grieve the sheer number of my friends who have SUFFERED at the hands of entitled @$$3$. I grieve because good men make mistakes or don’t believe their counterparts could ever do that to a woman, and that makes it a difficult conversation to have with them. But I grieve that it is still that rampant and that we as women are still blamed or not believed. I have held these women in the aftermath, loved them and seen the damage first hand. And no one should ever feel that way. EVER! I am so fortunate to know people who have a voice and choose to use it in the aftermath.

So this week I’m taking a lunch out to process my grief by putting it out there in words. I’m not the only one.

So if any of these things are making you grieve this week. You’re not alone. Put it into words or art. It helps.

your turn

What triggers your grief?